Mad
by jjhatter
Summary: All he wants is his Alice… The Mad Hatter's point of view of Batman: Arkham City; also covers some events that take place before the game, including the Hatter's POV of the patient interviews. Please, review!
1. Chapter 1

Hello, my fine readers and knaves! Welcome to my first venture into fanfiction for _Batman: Arkham Asylum_, and its sequel, _Batman: Arkham City._ Reviews are greatly appreciated, but, please, no flames! I will readily douse them. Now, for some more boring matters of business…

Rating: T (for violence and disturbing scenarios)

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING…except for the "Alice" in this chapter. I made her up. All characters and rights for _Arkham City _are property of DC Comics, Bob Kane, Rocksteady, and anybody else I've failed to mention involved in the game's making. _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ and _Through the Looking-Glass_ belong to the late Lewis Carroll. If anything is wrong with this disclaimer, please, inform me, and I shall remedy the situation!

Summary: All he wants is his Alice… This is the Mad Hatter's point of view of _Batman: Arkham City_; also covers some events that take place before the game, including the Hatter's POV of the patient interviews.

**Prologue: They Told Me You Had Been To Her…**

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…_

A man smiles, pocketing his silver watch.

It's six o'clock.

It's ALWAYS six o'clock.

It's time for tea.

He looks up from his seat to the woman before him. Her eyes are of the brightest, most enchanting blue, even if they are red and blurry with tears. Her hair is long and golden blonde…such a pretty, yellow color of hair. She is wearing a blue gingham dress, but nothing else. Her mouth is taped shut, and her makeup is running.

In short, to the man, she is a beauty.

No…she's even more.

She is Alice.

He grins broadly, oblivious to his captive's terror. He rises from his chair, walking toward her, hands folded casually behind his back.

He is not especially tall, nor especially weighty…actually, he is a bit shorter than what is normal, and his weight is so scant it borders on the verge of gaunt. His hands bear fingerless white gloves, and about him is draped a trenchcoat so full of patches and stitches that it seems to hold every shade of green imaginable, from a dark pine color to a pale jade. About his bare neck is a black bow tie, and, in place of a vest, he wears a white A-shirt. His trousers match his trenchcoat, and are about half a size too large. Upon his feet are dark green rubber boots.

His red hair is unkempt and dirty, the bangs falling into his face, covering his left eye from sight. The other eye is as blue as his Alice's eyes, and, were it not for her position, the lady would find that eye to be gentle, calm, and carefree. But, undulating like a serpent's spine, just beneath this fun and fancy free light, is a slice of unadultered insanity, standing out like a single slab of raw, fetid meat in the well-kept butcher shop they are in, where everything else is clean.

Well…except for the walls. They're covered in blood. And it isn't the blood of the pigs or cattle.

Upon this man's head is a tall, oversized, fantastic top hat, a dark green color with a black leather hatband, in which is stuck a card reading, in cursive writing, "In This Style, 10/6."

The madman's name is Jervis Tetch, alias the Mad Hatter.

And he's ready for his tea.

"Are you comfortable, Alice, dear?" he asks, softly. His voice, a high, reedy, English tenor accent, would seem comical in any other circumstance.

In her position, the woman can do nothing but blink, teary-eyed, at the Hatter. He has removed the mind controlling headband he used to lure her to his lair, but has not told her what he wants, and why she is with him now.

He frowns, confused.

"Alice?" he asks. "Are you all right? You seem so sad…why is my Alice sad?"

The woman blinks again.

"Do you want some tea?" asks the Mad Hatter. At this point, he can think of nothing else to cheer his Alice up.

The woman shakes her head. Fast.

The Hatter's smile returns.

"Oh, but you'll like my tea, Alice!" he chirps. "You always did before! Of course," he then says, putting a finger to his chin in thought, "It could be difficult for you to take your tea with that gray stuff over your mouth…here, I'll take it off for you!"

With the speed of a striking cobra, the Hatter's nimble fingers tear away the duct tape, and the woman lets out a short cry of pain as the tape removes the tiniest of hairs from her upper lip.

Jervis' eyes go wide; he didn't mean to hurt his Alice!

"Oh, Alice! I'm sorry…I didn't want to…oh, please forgive me! Won't you forgive me, Alice, dearest?"

The woman gulps, and takes a deep breath.

Hatter takes this as a pardon.

"Oh, hurray!" he cries, clapping his hands like a child. "Alice forgives me! Here, I'll fetch you some tea!"

The Hatter leaps across the table, sending his own crockery scattering onto the floor. He shrugs, deciding that he'll pick it up later. He takes a teacup and pours a hot, steaming, light-brown drink into it from a silver pot. Holding this cup in both hands, he blows away some of the steam, and, smiling giddily, brings it to the woman, and places it before her.

But she can't drink it…he has her hands tied to the back of the chair.

"There!" he says, not realizing this error. "Now Alice can have her tea!"

The woman shakes her head, biting her lip and closing her eyes. Hatter's eyes grow sad and dark. He cocks his head to one side.

"Alice?" he begins, his voice the whine of a wounded puppy. "Alice, what is the matter? Don't you want your tea, Alice?"

The woman looks up at him, frightened and confused.

"I-I'm not Alice," she whispers.

Hatter stares, shocked.

"Oh, but, you are an Alice, Alice! You are, you are, you are! You're in an Alice's dress, and you have such nice, yellow hair, like a proper Alice should…"

He brings forth a hand, and runs his fingers through said hair. The "Alice" shivers at his touch, but he doesn't notice, or, at least, pretends not to.

"…And your eyes are an Alice's eyes, so, therefore, you must be Alice! 'ThAt'S lOgIc!'"

The eerie, up-down melody the Hatter's voice takes in these last two words quite unnerves the so-called "Alice." She shudders violently, trying to break her bonds on her wrists and ankles. Jervis backs up, surprised, raising an eyebrow.

"Alice?"

The woman stares up at him, a twinge of frustration evident on her frightened face.

"My name isn't Alice!" she cries, desperately. "It's Ophelia! Ophelia Jones!"

Hatter crosses his arms over his chest, scowling.

"Now, Alice, don't be rude!" he scolds. "'ReMeMbEr WhO yOu ArE!'"

"But I'm not Alice! I'm not!"

Hatter's eyes have now lost their joy. Only madness remains.

"You're making me angry, Alice," he says, sharply. "Please, don't make me angry. I don't like it when I'm angry, and I don't think you'll like an angry me, either."

The woman gulps, and shakes her head, muttering under her breath, "No…no…"

Hatter sighs, his eyes becoming soft as blankets; he doesn't like this. Really, he doesn't. Why is his Alice so scared? What's making his Alice cry? Why can't Alice say she's _Alice?_

More importantly…

"Alice, why haven't you taken your tea? Do you want more?"

The woman looks up, eyes even more bleary in appearance.

"I haven't had any yet, so I can't take more…"

Jervis smiles.

_That's a bit more like it…_

"'YoU mEaN yOu CaN't TaKe LeSs…iT's VeRy EaSy To TaKe MoRe ThAn NoThInG!'"

The up-down melody makes the young woman cringe.

"P-p-please," she stutters. "I'm not your Alice…why don't you l-leave me alone?"

The smile vanishes quicker than the Cheshire Cat. Hatter groans.

"Oh, Alice, not now…please, stop, I don't like this game!"

"I-it's not a game! I'm not Alice! I'm not!"

As the woman says this, she leans forward, tugging her restraints.

Hatter's eyes narrow. He looks the woman over closely. Her eyes are blue, yes…but they aren't that pure. More of an aquamarine, sort of greenish, hue. And her hair isn't really blonde! It's dyed!

He growls.

"No, you aren't Alice…not Alice at all…"

Quick as a flash, the Hatter reaches somewhere into his coat and whips out a long, sharp machete. The woman's blue-green eyes focus on its razor edge, terror rising rapidly.

"You're more like a Duchess! I HATE THE DUCHESS! _OfF wItH yOuR hEaD!"_

Before the deed can be carried out, a loud crash of shattering glass from the skylight above the pair echoes in the Hatter's ears. The Mad Hatter turns fast, machete still drawn, and gasps.

The Jabberwock, pointed ears, flaming eyes, great, black wings, and all, looms before him.

"Good evening, Hatter," It growls. "Am I late for tea?"

"Pest!" the Hatter bellows, forgetting the "Duchess" in the chair. "Why can't you just leave me in peace?"

Without another word or thought, the Hatter lunges at his manxome foe, machete slicing the air in front of him like bread-and-butter. The Jabberwock moves aside, and a black-gloved fist collides with the Hatter's cheek. He grunts, putting a hand to his hat brim, and brings the blade down again. A strong, firm hand grabs the Hatter's arm, wrenching the machete from the maniac's grasp.

With uncanny quickness, the Mad Hatter leaps back, dodging a kick from his foe, and somersaults to his Alice – he's forgotten she's only a Duchess – taking a protective stance before her.

"Don't move, Alice!" he snarls. "I'll protect us!"

His hand is very close to the woman's cheek. Taking the initiative, she bites his little finger.

With a shriek of pain, Tetch swings his arm around, smacking the Alice across her face. She yelps with pain.

"Alice!" he screams at her, angered beyond belief. "Why did you bite me, Alice?"

He never says another word. Something hard and leather-clad slams into the back of his skull, and he crumples to the ground. He feels his beloved hat roll onto the floor from the top of his head.

His vision grows fuzzy…he sees the Jabberwock untying his Alice's wrists…he hears his Alice – HIS _ALICE –_ thanking the frumnious creature for its aid…

"Alice…precious…"

He knows nothing else.


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: This is the first of several chapters that will be based on the Patient Interview tapes with the Mad Hatter from _Batman: Arkham City._ Nothing here is mine. At all.

**Chapter I: It Began With the Tea...**

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…_

He counts the seconds on and on; he's already two days slow, he doesn't want to lose track of time completely.

It's like this every morning he's here, just counting away while he waits for a change.

It has been six months now since the Jabberwock took his Alice away from him…again. He might be a bit behind of course, but…

"'It WaS tHe BeSt BuTtEr, YoU kNoW…'"

He sighs, sitting up in his cot, staring up at the padded walls of his cell. He's so tired of coming back down to this Rabbit Hole…nothing really changes.

Well…okay, so there was that one time that the Jabberwock got stuck in the building, but he had escaped before the incident, and was caught not long after it ended.

He looks at his reflection in the glass wall across from him. He wears an orange jumpsuit, the usual uniform, with a name tag reading "Tetch, 273" on his chest, and upon his head is a small, flat cap, also orange; a stereotypical "jailbird" hat.

He sighs again; the cursed Men and Women in Paper Suits tell him this isn't a prison, but he disagrees. The outfit would fit in the Queen's dungeons perfectly. Patients wear greenish smocks and lie in beds with soft, downy pillows. He wears…this.

A third, heavier sigh escapes him, and he drops his gaze to the floor.

He needs Alice. Where is she? Why won't she visit him? He can't offer her tea now, but they could still have fun together, couldn't they? They could still play, asking riddles with no answers, or spinning tales with the Dormouse that concern words that start with "M," or else a treacle-well. Right?

Wrong. Alice doesn't want him…she hid behind a Duchess. And the Jabberwock took them both away from him. And sent him here.

Again.

If only she was here...she could make things all better...

They could at least give him a proper hat...

"Yo, Hatter!"

Hatter's eyes flash up. The Knave of Hearts – the one the so-called doctors call Aaron Cash – and a nameless Guard – who is not made of cardboard, oddly – are standing in the doorway.

"Time for a therapy session; ya got a new shrink."

Hatter blinks.

"Shrink? I don't need therapy to shrink. I just need a bit of wine…or perhaps some tea…"

The Knave rolls his eyes.

"Whatever. Ya comin', or do I have to force ya along?"

Hatter eyes the Knave suspiciously.

The man called Cash sighs.

"Would it help if I told ya that Alice might come by if ya go?"

Instantly the Hatter is on his feet.

"Alice? Really? Oh, where is she! I want Alice! I can't wait for her to come for tea again!"

He continues to say things like this all the way down the hall.

When they reach the so-called "shrink's" door, he falls silent. He has forgotten what to say next, and, as he forgets this, he forgets his Alice.

But he still wants to see her.

He hears voices, but he scarcely pays attention to them.

"Yo, Doc! Here's yer patient."

That's the Knave.

"Thank you, Mr. Cash. You may go. Guard? Please, stay. Your assistance may be required."

Jervis arches an eyebrow, and looks up to see the new Man in the Paper Suit…

And instantly decides that he isn't the Man in the Paper Suit after all. The man is of average height, but of strong build. His head is bald, but he bears a dark brown goatee. Dark, round glasses shadow his steely, blue-gray eyes. He wears a standard Arkham labcoat, with a black jumpsuit and boots beneath this, and black rubber gloves on his hands. He mimics the Hatter's response to his deep voice, which has the very slightest of accents (to Hatter, it sounds German, but he can't be sure), raising a curious eyebrow in the shorter man's direction.

Jervis lowers his eyes again, and doesn't struggle as he is seated before the doctor's desk. He sneaks a look at the man's name tag, reading the name "Prof. H. Strange," before settling his eyes onto the wooden desks.

Who is this new person? Jervis shivers, deciding he scares him, and decides he is the King of Hearts.

No…he can't be the King, not with a white, papery coat such as the one he saw…

Is he both? "The King in the Paper Suit," maybe?

Hatter mentally shrugs, deciding this is a suitable, if unheard of, title.

The King in the Paper Suit is talking, but the Mad Hatter pays him no heed. Having decided on his identity, he has turned his thoughts to Alice, with her gorgeous blue eyes, luscious yellow hair, and pretty blue clothes. Where did she go? Someone said she was here…didn't they? Or did they? Or they did? Or they didn't? If she's here, where is she? Oh, she must be here, or she'd be somewhere else. If not somewhere else, she'd be nowhere, and such is not the usual thing at all.

If she's here, he has to find her…but where should he start?

As he's pondering this, the deep voice of the King in the Paper Suit enters his ears, his words cutting through everything else.

"…brought to Arkham Asylum six months ago by the Batman…"

_Batman!_

Batman! The name of the Jabberwock! He knows that much!

He slowly rises, his eyes remaining fixed on the desk in front of him as he does so.

The Jabberwock can't stop him. He has to find Alice.

"Sit down, Mr. Tetch!" says the King.

Hatter looks at him quickly.

"But there's no time to sit!" he protests. "I need Alice! Where is my Alice…?"

"Please," the King says, his tone more commanding, now.

Hatter giggles, his hands twitching and falling to the desk. He fixes the doctor with a lurid grin, the one eye visible behind his red bangs disturbingly bright.

He begins to sing, the up-down melody returning, although he is not quoting.

_"No TiMe tO sIt, NoT tImE fOr ChAt! I'm SeArChInG fOr AlIcE, aNd I'vE lOsT mY hAt!"_

The King eyes him without fear, which briefly confuses the Hatter; even Alice seems to be upset by his singing most of the time. Her one and only fault.

Which makes her more perfect.

Which is another reason to find her!

He drops his chair and dashes for the door.

"Guard? Restrain Mr. Tetch."

The King has not finished speaking before the Guard grabs the Hatter, wrestling him to the floor. Hatter snarls, trying to wriggle away, biting and scratching with his short, dirty fingernails, making the Guard hiss in pain as the redhead's teeth draw blood from his wrist.

"Get off me!" Tetch growls. "Get off me! _I'm LaTe!_ I'm running out of time! _Alice,_ _where ARE you?"_

"Alice isn't here yet," the King's voice says over the commotion, not sounding concerned for either patient or guard in the least. "Just relax, Jervis; she will be here soon."

Instantly, the Mad Hatter stops struggling.

_…She will?_

_ Truly?_

The guard grabs the Hatter by the collar and forces him into the chair. The man is too confused to do anything but stutter.

"B-b-but…! Who…? Where…?"

"I promise," says the King, holding up a hand in a calming gesture. "Now, would you like some tea?"

As the King says this, he reaches across his desk and switches off a small tape recorder, before reaching into his desk drawers.

The Hatter is instantly silenced. The prospect of his favorite drink is too good to pass up. To his delight and surprise, the King in the Paper Suit brings up two teacups and what seems to be a thermos. He pops the thermos open and pours – oh, frabjous day! – hot, brown tea into each cup. Replacing the thermos in his desk, he then takes up a packet of sugar and pours into one cup. He smiles at the Hatter, almost kindly, but not quite…the smile seems somewhat forced.

"Sugar, Mr. Tetch?"

"Please!" Hatter chirps, his head nodding up and down like a bobbing bird's head.

As the King pours sugar into the Hatter's cup, his slightly evil grin goes unnoticed…


	3. Chapter 3

Note: This chapter is based on the second Mad Hatter patient interview tape from _Batman: Arkham City_. Nothing and nobody in this belongs to me.

**Chapter II: Curiouser and Curiouser…**

He's not sure about this man, really…this Paper-Wearing King. It's been a week since Hatter first saw him, and that day still makes him wonder, with questions a-plenty.

The King had offered him tea…not only that, but it was his favorite tea! And he knew just the right amount of sugar to put in it, too!

Hatter thought he had liked him, then.

But then came the questions…and these ones had answers. And they were just like all the other questions the other Paper Suit People in the Rabbit Hole asked. Not only that, but he kept him distracted from his quest! He STILL had yet to find Alice!

Hatter decided he didn't like him, then…and made it quite clear.

But, just before the guard slammed something sharp into his arm, the King had told him that he WOULD get to see Alice, sometime in the future.

This was why Jervis didn't know whether he liked him or not.

He is on his way to see the King, now, humming the old tune of _The Lobster Quadrille_ to himself as two nameless guards shove him along, one on each side of him.

He frowns slightly, realizing that, as of late, the escorts to the King's office seem to be growing quieter and quieter. Usually, the guards of Arkham Asylum are more rowdy.

Oh, well. He's not going to complain…not yet, anyway.

He plops into his chair, across from the King in the Paper Suit, pretending not to notice him flip on the tape recorder lying on his desk.

"Is Alice here yet?" he inquires eagerly, his smile hopeful.

The King shakes his head.

"No, I'm afraid not," he says, in a very business-like, no nonsense tone.

Hatter hangs his head and sighs.

"Let us…talk, while we wait," the King suggests, steepling his gloved hands.

Hatter rolls his eyes; they always want to talk. And they don't even want to talk about the things he wants to talk about, like shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, and cabbages, and kings, nor why the sea is boiling hot, nor even whether pigs have wings! It gets quite dull, really.

"You and I have much in common, Jervis," the King in Paper begins.

Hatter looks up.

"Really?" he asks, genuinely surprised. "Do you know Alice, too?"

If he actually KNOWS Alice, he could tell Hatter where to find her!

Oh, that would be _wonderful…_

"…Unfortunately, not," the King says, sounding slightly irritated and befuddled.

Hatter hangs his head again.

If this Paper-Wearing Royal can't tell him where to find Alice, he doesn't want to speak with him. He just wants his Alice. Nothing else. Just Alice. He doesn't want a horse, he doesn't want a fish, he doesn't even want tea! He. Just. Wants. _ALICE._

"You and I both share a common interest in the mind, do we not?" the German-baritone King pursues. "I studied your papers, Jervis. You were quite brilliant! Truly, an extraordinary mind!"

The Mad Hatter is not used to such compliments, and he momentarily forgets Alice, feeling a fresh burst of pride at the praise he is receiving.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," he says with a proud smile, waving his hand carelessly in the air as he speaks, to make it seem like it's all a nothing. "It's all just chemicals, and synapses, and rabbits, and…"

He takes a deep breath, remembering he still has a question to answer.

"…Oh, where is Alice…?" he murmurs, looking around, hoping to spot her, hiding somewhere in the office.

He doesn't see a spot of blue, nor even a flash of gold.

The King snaps his fingers in his face. He blinks, honing in on the bearded, spectacled man, and flinches slightly at the hard, iron-cold stare he gets back in return.

"You need to focus!" the King snaps, authoritatively. "Think about your work, for a minute!"

Hatter nods.

_I'm a poor man, Your Majesty,_ he thinks of saying, but keeps his mouth shut, knowing that he is also a very poor speaker.

The King smiles slightly, seeing he has the Mad Hatter's attention, and goes on.

"You theorized," he says, "that there is no such thing as free will. That you can change a man's allegiances, his motives, his emotions…everything that we believe makes a man…with chemicals."

Hatter nods, flashing a small smile of his own, remembering the little baby rabbits he kept in his research lab. Oh, he had loved them so! He can still recall inserting his formula into microchips, and then placing these chips into special collars he made for them. The power to control them…to make them take tea with him…to have them be late or on time…

His smile becomes wider, and far less innocent in tone.

The King's, it seems, likes this idea, for it becomes similar in appearance.

"Your formula was quite brilliant," he says.

The King pauses slightly before adding, in a hushed tone, "That's why I used it."

_This_ gets the Hatter's attention. He stares, shocked.

The King in the Paper Suit smirks, pointing up at the guards on either side of his so-called "patient." Hatter looks up.

Their eyes are blank, their faces cold and eerily calm.

He then notices a small, blinking chip, hidden almost out of sight, on the edge of one of their helmets.

His work. No doubt of it.

He slowly turns back to the King, who is grinning toothily. Hatter isn't mad…well, he is, of course, but not in an angry way. But he is certainly confused.

"But, h-h-how did you get it?"

The King smiles wider. Perhaps he wants him to guess?

Deciding this is the case, Hatter poses the first guess to come to mind.

"Did Alice give it to you?"

The King's smile quickly disappears.

The Hatter is sure this is a sign that he is correct. He gasps in mock horror, and begins to laugh in a soft, dark tone.

"Wicked girl!" he chortles. "Nasty little thing!"

There is a long, long silence.

"…Is she here yet?"

The King sighs, and turns off the recorder.

"Soon, Jervis," he says, without much enthusiasm. "Soon."

Hatter cocks his head to one side, curious and hopeful.

"How soon is soon?"

The King stares at him for a while, a hand on his chin.

Slowly...very slowly...the goateed man smiles.

"Tomorrow," he answers at length. "At our next session. Alice will be here, Jervis, I swear."

Hatter's eyes widened.

"But it isn't polite to!"

The King raised an eyebrow.

"To what, Mr. Tetch?"

"Swear, of course! It's really quite rude! Poor Alice...she'd be most upset if I swore!"

The King's lips twitched.

"I simply meant to assure you that Alice will be here next time you come, Mr. Tetch."

Hatter leaned forward eagerly, smiling broadly, fidgeting with excitement.

"Really?" he piped.

The King smiled even wider, and snapped his fingers. The Guards reached down and took him by the arms.

"Yes, Jervis," the King in the Paper Suit promised as the Mad Hatter was taken away. "Alice will be here. You just have to wait till tomorrow."

Hatter was beaming with joy as he was led back to his cell.

He didn't care about the King's strange grin.

He didn't care about how the Paper Suit Wearer got his technology.

He didn't even care that he got no tea that day.

All he knew was that Alice was coming to see him.

That was all he could ask for.


	4. Chapter 4

Note: This chapter is based on the third _Arkham City_ patient interview tape with the Mad Hatter. Nothing here belongs to _moi._

**Chapter III: Still She Haunts Me, Phantomwise...**

He can't keep quiet or still on the way to the office.

"Alice is coming today!" he keeps saying, giddy laughter etched into his high, manic voice. "Aren't you glad, Guards? She can help you with the flowers, you know! The ones that need to be painted? Oh, but we mustn't let Miss Isely know...she can be just as bad as the Queen, you know, when she gets mad! Then again, she's always mad...wE'rE aLl MaD hErE!"

The mindless guards, in their puppet-like state, never get annoyed by their charge's "eccentric" mannerisms...thank goodness. Most others would have brained the poor lunatic by now.

Of course, he never even notices or cares about this. All he can comprehend is the fact that Alice – dearest, darling, dumpling-sweet Alice – is coming to see him today. And no pointy-eared Jabberwocks, clown-faced Bandersnatches, red-breasted Jub-Jub Birds, or any other terrblifying beast will be able to keep them apart!

But, to his awful surprise, when they reach the office of the King in the Paper Suit, Alice is nowhere to be seen. He looks around...is she under the desk? No...behind the filing cabinet? No...hiding in the corner? Surely not...

"Where is she?" Hatter asks out loud, but is talking more to himself than anybody else. The King smirks and waves a hand, dismissing the Guards, who leave the office after shoving the Hatter roughly into a chair, and station themselves right outside the office door, and then turning on his tape recorder.

"Where is she?" Hatter asks again, now speaking directly to the goateed man. "Oh, you told me that Alice would be here!"

His voice takes on a whining tone, and he finds himself on the verge of sobbing. He can't believe it! Why didn't Alice come? Why did the King break his promise to him? He might be a very poor speaker, but it wasn't his fault...he was just busy trying to figure out how to make pudding out of blotting paper, was all, or else how to turn the whiskers green! Alice understood that, didn't she? Of course she did; she was Alice! So why wasn't she there?

But his hope comes racing back up from the depths as the King says, "She _is_, Jervis. She's right here..."

Hatter smiles, fidgeting around excitedly, looking about again as the King rises and strides to his filing cabinet, searching through the manilla folders at a steady browsing pace.

"Alice?" he calls, and starts to sing, clapping to the beat only his ears can hear, "AlIcE, cOmE oUt! DoN't PoUt! DoN't MaKe Me ShOuT! AlIcE, cOmE oUt! WhErE aRe YoU?"

The King returns to the desk, placing the folder he has chosen on it. He opens it up, and removes its contents, spreading them out in a row. He taps the desk loudly, and the grinning man looks back, his crazed eyes glistening with eager happiness at the prospect of seeing his Alice again.

"Look at the pictures, Jervis," the King orders.

Hatter's smile fades, and he looks down, curious.

His eyes go wide, and he cringes away from what he sees: three photographs, each depicting a woman with long, curly hair, wearing clothes of blue; one a sweater and jeans, another a party dress, and the last a blouse and skirt. The first, going from the left to the right, who wears the party dress, lies on what looks like pavement, a bullet in her head. Crimson and black gunk stains her hair. The second, who wears the sweater, is purple in the face, her blue eyes wide; crumbs of toasted bread and smears of strawberry jam cover her cheeks and lips. She'd been choked by an English muffin. The third and final lady is even more morbid in appearance: her head has been severed from her body, and her twisted, terrified expression implies she was alive when it happened.

"Ohh," he moans, starting to whimper. "Oh, wh-wh-who...who _are_ these people?"

The King blinks slowly, his clasped hands resting again his chin, and points calmly with a single finger at the photos.

"Look again," the King in the Paper Suit says.

"Oh, I-I don't know who they are!" the Hatter wails, waving his hands about in emphasis and frustration. He groans, closing his eyes tight and placing a hand over his face, peering up at the King over it.

"Oh, _PLEASE_," Hatter whines, long and shrilly, "Is Alice here or not?"

The King gazes at the Hatter a moment longer, then, without even watching his own movements, the bearded Paper Suit Man, slides the photo of the woman in the party dress toward his "patient."

"Look at the first picture," he says.

Reluctantly, the shorter man does so, his eyes glittering uncomfortably. He shakes his head, silent and strangely frightened.

"Look at the dress she's wearing," the King goes on. "Look at the hair. It's Alice, isn't it?"

Hatter gulps, and shakes his head harder.

"No, no, no," he mutters. "That can't be Alice...Alice has nice yellow hair, and...and isn't..."

He closes his eyes, and covers them with one hand, unsuccessfully attempting to smother a deep, dismal sob.

"...covered in blood..."

The King raises an eyebrow.

"I think you know EXACTLY who this is, Mr. Tetch," he says. "I think you remember the night you lured Stephanie Williams back to your research lab…how you offered her tea…what happened then?"

Hatter bites his lip hard, though not hard enough to draw blood. His eyes are cloudy with tears. He shakes his head again.

"No, no…no…"

The King's eyes and voice both grow hard and fierce.

"You killed her, didn't you?"

Hatter looks up fast, horrified.

"No!"

_I deny it!_

"She was the first."

**"No!"**

Unable to hold back, he begins to weep, burying his face in his hands. The King sits back casually, just watching him bawl.

"It's okay, Jervis," he says slowly. "It's all right to remember."

Hatter only whimpers in reply, and continues to cry.

There is a pause.

"How many 'Alices' were there?" the King asks after a while.

Hatter gulps.

"I-I can't remember, sir…"

"No?" the King presses, shutting off the recorder, finally.

Hatter shakes his head. He knows it won't help at all, and that he will probably be chastised for his insignificant speech, but he says it anyway…

'"I'm A pOoR mAn, YoUr MaJeStY.'"

The King just looks at him a little longer, silent as a grave.

"I think we should continue our discussion tomorrow, Mr. Tetch; you clearly are not in any condition to-"

"NO!" the Hatter suddenly screams, and lunges for the King, grabbing him by the collar of his Paper Suit. "YOU SAID I COULD SEE MY ALICE! WHERE IS ALICE?"

The King in the Paper Suit glares back, almost defiantly.

"Unhand me," he whispers.

"TELL ME WHERE MY ALICE IS!"

"Guards!"

The Guards enter, one holding a syringe. The one with two free hands grabs the Hatter by his arms. He struggles, screaming and howling like a lost wolf, kicking at the guard's shins, although the not-so-flat man feels nothing in his brainwashed state. As the syringe-carrier looms closer, his cries increase in volume and ferocity, and he bites at the hands that hold him.

"RELEASE ME! I NEED MY ALICE! GIVE ME ALICE, NOW! ALICE! HELP, ALICE! HELP, HELP!"

"Calm down, Jervis!" shouts the King.

"NO! ALICE! TELL ME WHAT YOU'VE DONE WITH HER, PLEASE! I NEED TO HAVE MY ALICE! I NEED…I need…need…"

He slumps, vision blurry; he never noticed the needle go in.

"Alice…Alice…"

He sleeps very soundly that night, without any dreams of his Alice to bother him.


	5. Chapter 5

Note: This chapter is based on the fourth patient interview tape with the Mad Hatter from _Batman: Arkham City._ I own nothing! Period.

**Chapter IV: With Gently Smiling Jaws…**

The days seem even longer now.

Not that they were short before; living where it is always six o'clock can do that.

He waits, counting seconds, counting minutes, counting hours, counting how often he counts things…

He counts the time that goes on until he can get his Alice back.

He's been in a dark, cold cell – "Solitaire," or something like that – for the past three weeks…he thinks. Maybe only three days. Such a bothersome fellow, Father Time…

The food he gets here is awful…though it wouldn't be any better if he weren't there. It just seems even worse, given the atmosphere. How he longs for his tea, and maybe some plum cake. Or at least a bit of bread-and-butter. Any one of them would make him happier.

Alice would make him ecstatic.

Where is that naughty girl, anyway? What has the bloody Paper Suit King done with her, if anything? Why won't she come back to him? He needs her…doesn't she know that? Silly thing, always in a rush after that stupid Rabbit…

He sighs, louder than he has ever sighed before.

'"DoWn, DoWn, DoWn…WoUlD tHe FaLl NeVeR cOmE tO aN eNd?'"

Without warning, the door opens. In the dim light – so bright to him, ironically, he covers his eyes briefly and lets out a sharp squeak of surprise – he sees the silouhette of the Knave of Hearts.

"Yo, Hatter! Yer out of Solitary. It's time for another session with yer shrink. No tricks this time!"

Hatter cocks his head to one side.

"Tricks? I don't want to play tricks on anyone! I just want my Alice! Are you sure _she_ isn't the one playing tricks?"

"Just come on!"

Hatter groans.

"Fine. But I don't see the point…when he talks, 'iT's RaThEr HaRd To UnDeRsTaNd.'"

"I'll bet. Let's go."

The Knave called Cash brings him down the hall, to the King's office. He doesn't look at anything except his shoes as he sits, completely of his own free will (or whatever is in its place) into the chair across from the King in the Paper Suit.

"You sure you can handle him, Professor? After last time…"

"I'm sure nothing will go wrong this time. By the way, did you get back his…?"

"Yeah, but I don't see what good it'll do. Your s'posed to be treatin' him, not makin' him worse, doc."

"I think it will help, Mr. Cash. I really do. Please, wait outside. If the need arises, I'll call you."

"All right, but don't say I didn't warn ya."

The Knave leaves.

The King turns on the recorder, as usual.

No words are spoken for a long, long time.

Hatter sighs loudly.

"Well…Alice isn't coming…is she?"

He looks up, timidly, at the King, who gazes back, thoughtfully.

"That all depends on how you cooperate," whispers the goateed ruler.

The Mad Hatter looks at him pointedly, urging him to go on.

The King takes a deep breath.

"I have a little…side project that I'm working on," he says, the ghostliest of smiles apparent on his lips. "I could use your help."

Hatter's eyes widen. He shakes his head instantly.

"My help?" he chirps, fretfully. "I can't help! I'll be late…!"

_And if I'm late, the March Hare will scold me, the Dormouse will snore in my ear all day, and Alice…_

"Stay focused, Jervis."

The Hatter blinks, and tries to look focused…without much success. The King sighs loudly, rising from his seat. He turns away from the Hatter, focusing on the back wall, hands in the pockets of his paper coat.

"This facility is old," says the King, his voice contemptuous. "Tired. Full of ghosts."

Hatter gulps, eyes wide as saucers.

"Ghosts?"

The King laughs.

"A figure of speech," he says, placatingly, and half-turns toward the Mad Hatter. "Do not worry: Arkham Asylum will not exist forever. Its techniques are old. Its mission? Outdated. I intend to create a new Arkham," he explains, raising his head high with pride, "An Arkham that will rise, phoenix-like, from the ashes of this one!"

Ashes?

Ashes means smoke, and smoke means the toast is burning, and if the toast is burning, that means...

"Is there a fire?" Hatter whispers. He shudders, glancing around nervously, looking for a splash of red-orange that might be the flames, leaping right at him. "Ohh...we should get out of here..."

The King pays him no heed.

"I have arranged for some documents to be left in your cell," he says. "They outline a technique I proposed to control the mind of...shall we just say, "weaker souls"?

Hatter looks up, surprised. The King in the Paper Suit...wants him to start hatting again? But...isn't he supposed to stop him from hatting? Will he give him Alice if he hats for him?

Oh, he really hopes so...

"...I cannot do it without rabbits."

The King raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly, silently prodding him to continue, much as the shorter man did earlier with his own eyes.

"I need rabbits for my research. And tea! And..."

"And Alice, I know."

_The King's a psychic? How interesting..._

The King chuckles and turns away again.

"I have arranged for a number of test subjects to be at your disposal," he says. "They have been here at Arkham Asylum for so many years that no one will miss them."

Hatter smiles slightly, but his smirk vanishes quite fast...much faster than a cat's...

"Shall we meet again next week?"

The King does not turn around as he says this; it is more of a command than a question or request.

Hatter looks down, thoughtful.

Oh, he's not sure about this...hatting is good – he can't be who he is if he doesn't hat people – but the King? He's not entirely certain if he is or not...

Of course, if he gets rabbits and/or Alice, that will be nice...

But getting a knife in the back, or a needle in the neck? Not so nice...

"Oh!" the King gasps, remembering, and holds up a finger in recollection. "And I took the liberty of having your hats returned. I trust that will be all the encouragement you require."

The Hatter just beams.


End file.
